Run (Nola Zombies Book 1)

by Gillian Zane

  Fuck it. I was just going to wing it. There was only one lane of cars between me and the entrance to what looked like the Harbor police station. Everyone was driving west, heading out of the city, there was no incoming traffic so people were driving in both lanes. I was blocked in, but I drove a sturdy car, it was nothing to “squeeze” between the Prius and Malibu that blocked my way. I only scratched them a bit, well maybe more than a bit, it definitely didn’t warrant the Prius guy’s ridiculous cursing and honking at me, especially in the insanity that was going on around us.

  “Bill me you dick.” I called out the window.

  The Harbor Police was located on the river side of the levee protection, outside of the levee walls. To gain entrance you had to go through one of the flood gates that were kept open, unless there was an imminent flood. They also had a secondary gate that was there to secure the area. I wouldn’t have been able to bust through the flood gate, but the chain link would be much easier.

  I was going at a fast clip by the time I got to the gate and I didn’t slow as I slammed into it. The gate wasn’t designed to protect against an impact of that nature so I plowed right through it and sailed over the railroad tracks with hardly any resistance. I was in the parking lot, and on the other side of the sea wall in just a few seconds. But now that I had gotten here should I drive the tracks, or get out and go on foot?

  The tracks ran the length of the levee until the Jefferson Parish line. I could probably make it pretty far. But, then again, I had no idea what type of resistance I would run in. Along the river and tracks there was a lot of commercial traffic and warehouses. There could be any number of obstacles and could my car even make it riding on the tracks?

  I heard the crunch of tires and saw a truck pull in behind me. Blocking me in. Panic seized me, but a quick calming breath had me realizing that I could easily go forward, make a quick turn and get out the same way I came. This person must think I knew what I was doing, but sorry for them, I had no clue.

  The Harbor police station looked abandoned. It was located on the Mississippi River for easy access to the Port of New Orleans. There was only one car in the parking lot; I guess they took the weekends off too. I had two choices at this point, enter the station and hole up or take my chances on the railway that ran between the river and Tchoupitoulas. I was hesitant to take the rail because I didn’t know how far it went or where it led. I was pretty sure it just dead-ended in the rail yard about a mile down − which was one mile further than I could get out on the street. This seemed like the best choice.

  Before I could pull out and get on the service road, I saw the occupant of the other truck get out and sling a backpack over his very well defined shoulders.

  Holy zombie balls, I hadn’t seen a man this pretty in real life before. I expected a sudden gust of wind to billow his longish brown hair, or a quick downpour to soak his too-tight tee so he would have to pull it off and reveal his rock-hard abs. I was drooling.

  I know it wasn’t the right time, but I couldn’t help but stare. It’s not every day that you see a jaw-dropping, beautiful man. His hair was a little long for my taste, almost to his shoulders, but it gave him a sexy rocker look that had my imagination running wild. He looked like the strong silent type. His dark good looks, paired with a hard stare sent shivers down my spine. He had this look about him, like he had seen the world and didn’t like it one bit. It both scared and excited me at the same time.

  We made eye contact and he smiled. It’s the zombie apocalypse and his manners were still intact. I liked him already. I wanted to tell him, ”Let’s go find a bed and get to know each other.” Then my brain kicked in. He could be a hot psychopath. Wasn’t Ted Bundy a hottie or something?

  He was walking over to me, but I didn’t want to get out or put myself at risk, so I just stayed behind the wheel all awkward like. Real smooth, Alexis. I felt and probably looked like a scared rabbit. It wasn’t until he knocked on my window that my manners kicked in and I rolled it down, a “Can I help you?” look on my face.

  “Hey, you got a plan?” Well, he was to the point.

  “I was going to drive up the tracks to the rail yard, take the service road if possible, my car could do it and it would avoid the traffic jam.”

  “If there’s a train on the tracks?” Logical. Well that screwed that plan.

  “That would suck,” I pouted.

  “I might have a better plan. Where you headed?”

  “River Road, past the hospital.”

  “Same here. Your house far from the river?”

  “A block.”

  “My name’s Blake, by the way. What’s yours?”

  “Alexis. What’s your plan?” I liked hot men with plans. I had no qualms about that. Shit, I would have liked an ugly woman with a plan at this point. I just wouldn’t have wanted to lick her ear.

  “The Harbor police have boats. We take a boat up the river. Resupply, figure out what the fuck is going on. That’s about as far as my plan goes.”

  “How are we going to get the keys?” I asked.

  “They should be inside the station. We just have to poke around.”

  “Poke around. Sure,” I laughed. It sounded a little hysterical and Blake with the plan looked at me funny. I just shrugged. “You got a weapon?”

  “Yeah, you?” I picked up the ax from the seat next to me and he raised his eyes at the obvious blood on its blade.

  “I like you already. Come on.” He said with another one of those panty melting smiles and drew a handgun from a holster that I had failed to notice.

  Dumb, I chastised myself. I had to notice things like that now. This guy could have been dangerous and I would have been screwed. He still could be dangerous. I shook my head. He didn’t have to include me in his plans, right? Anyway, I had a good feeling about him. He was like a white knight and I was the cute damsel in distress. Scratch that, I was the idiot that was about to get eaten by a zombie while having lewd fantasies about a total stranger.

  I slid out of the truck, grabbed my pack from the back seat and situated its bulky weight on my back. Then I grabbed my new best friend, the ax, its weight a weird comfort in my hands.

  “Is that a bug-out bag?” He asked, gesturing to the monstrosity on my back.

  “Yeah, a girl has to be prepared.”

  “Holy shit, I think I’m in love now.” I blushed. I couldn’t help it. I think I might have wiggled a little at the compliment.

  Crap, there goes my strong independent woman persona. It flew right out the window the moment a hot guy stepped up to the plate. My self-defense instructor would be so ashamed.

  “Don’t get too excited, Mr. Hot Pants, we just met...” Hot pants? I was a fool.

  He just smiled in response and then with a head jerk headed to the front door of the Harbor Police Station, expecting me to follow his lead. The front door was open and Blake called loudly, “Hello?” There was no response.

  “There has to be someone on duty,” I whispered as he crossed the threshold and pulled the door behind us, his gun drawn, his movements all sexy and stealthy. Er...just stealthy. I had to cool it with all the drooling. I had zombies to worry about.

  “Maybe they can’t respond,” he whispered back.

  “Let’s hope he’s just in the bathroom.”

  He wasn’t in the bathroom and it wasn’t just one of them. It was three of them, still in their uniforms, each one showing obvious traumatic wounds, gray skin, and hungry mouths.

  “Aim for the head, just like the movies,” I called as he actually walked toward the fuckers, eager to take them out. He did as told and fired off six shots. The three zombies went down, each one with a precise double-hole head wound.

  “You’re a good shot.” I complimented.

  “Years of training.”

  “Military?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank you, for taking care of that.” I motioned to the dead officers.

  “No, problem.” He walked over to the fallen polic
e officers and disarmed each of them. He slipped one gun into his pack and handed over two handguns to me. I checked the weapons, they looked like a Glock 22 and an M&P 9, but I wasn’t a big gun expert. I put them in my pack after checking the clip and making sure there wasn’t a round chambered. I was semi-competent − it had been the next thing on my prepper checklist: Become Gun Expert.

  “You know how to shoot?”

  “I’m competent,” I exaggerated. Close enough.

  “Good. It might be a good idea to check their weapons locker. I think the shit has hit the fan, better safe than sorry.”

  “Good thinking.” I looked at the corpses at my feet and noticed one with a set of keys. I had to take them off his belt. It was a nasty task, the guy was sticky with drying blood and the smell of piss was rank around him. It would have been easy if I had the stones to kneel down and get all close but I wasn’t that courageous. I finally managed to yank his belt off and then get the keys off the stupid retractable string. When I had them in hand I breathed a big sigh of relief and looked around for an obvious gun locker.

  The place wasn’t that big, it shouldn’t be hard to find guns and maybe some boat keys. We stealthily made our way down a long hallway, passing offices and a break room. We found the evidence room in the back of the warehouse and we were rewarded with sets of keys hung neatly on a pegboard near the front, each with a tag identifying what they were for. It was easy to spot the boat keys, with their large flotation key chains affixed to them and Blake grabbed them all, shoving them in his pocket. There wasn’t much else in the room, no weapons or other useful items, so we moved on.

  We moved down the hall and found a safe where we assumed the guns were held. None of the keys I had taken off the officer matched the safe though, so we had to make do with just the boat keys and the guns we had taken from the officers.

  “I think this is about all we can get from this place, let’s go get ourselves a boat.” Blake said, walking toward the back of the building.

  There was a back door to the building, and through the glass we could see a pedestrian bridge that led up and out to the river from the back lot. There were a few recreational boats and police boats parked at a large dock that was our obvious destination. I also noticed that about a dozen zombies had made their way into the parking lot, probably drawn by the gun shots and my mad rush through the gate. It wasn’t going to be that easy to get to the bridge.

  “We can do this,” Blake said. “There are only a dozen of them. Can you handle head shots?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded but I wasn’t that sure of myself. He was so sure of himself. I wanted a little piece of that confidence because I didn’t think I could do this. Head shots were hard. My instructors always told me to aim for the chest which was a bigger target.

  “Okay, we are heading for that big civilian boat, the one with the American flag. I think that is the one that is labeled 45 foot Carver. If I remember my boats correctly.”

  “You know how to drive that thing?”

  “Like driving a motor-home.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Well, in theory. You ready?”

  “No,” I gulped at the strain in my voice and he moved a little closer to me.

  “Hey.” His big hand cupped my cheek and he ran his thumb intimately over my face. Where he touched me my skin flamed. “You got this. I can’t believe my luck in running into you. I can tell just by the way that you handle yourself that you are strong and capable. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better at my side. We can handle this and then we’ll get on that damn boat, because I need to learn your last name and your favorite food and what else might bring that sexy blush to your cheeks again.”

  Holy shit. That was unexpected.

  I couldn’t help but smile at his words and he smiled back and wow, we were flirting. Zombies roaming about, a gun in my hand, flirting with an uber hottie and I knew I had this. There was no way fate would deliver the man of my dreams on the day the world ended just so we could be taken down by some asshole undead fucker.

  “You got this?” He asked, looking into my eyes.

  “Yeah, I got this.”

  “Yeah you right.” He patted me on the back. “Now here’s the plan. Hit the door hard and head straight for the bridge. When we get to the entrance they should be right on us. I’ll have your back, just turn around and aim. We’ll fall back to the boat once we drop the ones in the parking lot. The gunfire will draw more, so we gotta make this count.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well then, let’s do this.”

  We pushed out of the door. I led and went straight for the bridge. Blake’s gun fired twice, but I didn’t look back until I made it to the bridge. I turned and faced the oncoming zombies. Blake was close on my heels, when he made it to my side he turned and faced the incoming dead. I aimed and fired at the closest zombie, taking it down on my third shot. My second zombie went easier with only two shots. The third, only one. Alexis the zombie killer! Blake took out the rest in quick succession. But, I noticed there were a few more coming through the broken fence. They were about 200 yards away so we would have plenty of time to make it to the boat. I turned around and ran as fast as I could, Blake hot on my heels.

  The boat was a big, motorized yacht and sure enough it had a Carver logo, so we had the right keys. Blake went to one end of the boat and I went to the other, untying it from the dock. He unhooked a few cables that were locked into a box at the end of the dock and threw them on board. He motioned for me to board and I followed him to the cockpit, both exclaiming in relief when the key worked and the engines started.

  “Full tank too. They must use this one often. It’s clean and well-maintained from what I can tell.” Blake didn’t even look back as he pulled into the intimidating Mississippi River and began heading south just as the first zombie shuffled onto the dock.

  THREE | Preppers Ain’t So Crazy After All

  The calm of the river was at such odds with the chaos of the land that I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the gentle peacefulness of it all. I set my pack down and sat down in the passenger seat with a sigh.

  “Are you injured in any way?” Blake asked looking over at me in concern.

  “No, just mentally,” I laughed lightly, but it was probably true. Can you say, PTSD?

  “Yeah, this is fucked. Where were you when it all went to shit?”

  “The Higgins Building, downtown. Luckily there weren’t a lot of people working, that would have been insane on a regular workday. There are 500 people in the company I work for. I think the building holds about 7,000.” I shivered just thinking about it. “You?”

  “I was dropping off paperwork at my office. It’s not that far from here, right around the corner.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I own a private security firm. We do private details, some investigation work.”

  “You, Blake, might be a good person to know in the Zombie apocalypse.” I really meant that. I couldn’t have latched on to a better bug-out partner.

  “I have a feeling you might be an asset too.” He looked over at me and I didn’t think he was just talking about my skill-set. His eyes had gone all hungry and predatory, like a dog eying an abandoned plate of dinner. He cleared his throat and the hungry look was gone, making me both disappointed and relieved. “You seem prepared, you a prepper?”

  “I guess you could call me that. I don’t really consider myself one, not one of those hard-core people waiting for doomsday. I just like to be prepared, I utilize their forums and get ideas from hard-core guys that post online. Mostly, I make sure that I’m ready and aware. I knew deep down inside that something was going to happen, that at some point the shit would hit the fan. I just didn’t know what or when.”